Harry Potter and the Veil of Life
by YourStory
Summary: Harry is seventeen years old and the wizarding world is in chaos. Dumbledore is dead, his protection at the Dursley's is gone, and the last person he ever thought he would see is back, but not the way he was before.
1. Birthday Surprises

Harry Potter and the Veil of Life

Chapter One: Birthday Surprises

Story Note: An Alternate Universe, this story takes place in Harry's seventh year, Sirius and Dumbledore are dead, but there is no knowledge of the Horcruxes. I'll leave that to Jo.

It was five past midnight in Surrey, England, and in the shadows a figure snaked around the hedges of Magnolia Crescent, the flickering lamp post above giving little relief to the hardened edges worn into the man's face. For those who may be watching outside in this late hour, some latent knowledge that something remarkable was soon to happen, they would have seen the dark figure dart from house to house, avoiding the light-and detection- at all costs, and quite succeeding.

He was here for one purpose, and one purpose only. The belief of his death was enough to get him anywhere nowadays, as did his remarkable change in his appearance. He was here to cause a little mayhem, a little hell, and maybe a little spilt blood. Nothing too bad on his agenda. He was almost there, already.

Soon enough, the dark figure finally reached the pre-determined destination. He looked up, and on the top floor of this respectable looking home a light was in the window. The man grinned. Just as he thought, the boy was awake and using magic as soon as he turned seventeen, the legal wizarding age. But now, he was in danger, for the protection on his relative's home was gone, which was why he was here.

Taking ten steps up the walkway and to the door, the man did not even bother to knock. Instead, he pulled the door open with amazing strength, and ignoring the bickering he was soon to recieve from three of the residents, he took his leave upstairs to get the object of his plight.

It was five minutes to midnight, and Harry Potter was sitting in his bed, wide awake, studying his watch as though his life depended on it. Which it did. Professor McGonagall had written him a letter two weeks previously that on this night and the moment of his seventeenth birthday, the protection that Dumbledore had placed on him and his relatives would cease to exist. The Professor had also stated that someone would be coming to pick him up on that night, tonight, to help him, should anyone interfere.

Harry had assumed that he would have a hoarde of Aurors on either side of him at midnight, ready to apparate, floo, fly, or otherwise extract him from the Dursley's. He didn't look forward to it.

He had already packed his things. His books, robes, and various other magical items were in his trunk, put in days ago. The only things he had left out was one robe, his invisibility cloak, which he had in his robe pocket, and his wand, already in his hand.

Soon to be seventeen, Harry looked more as though he were a strange combinatioin of twelve and forty. His green eyes, once a shiny colour many of the girls of Hogwarts would swoon over, was now darkened, as though they had lived thirty generations in the space of a moment. His hair, a pure black, had a white hair or two growing in the back, something he had yet to notice. He had grown quite a bit more over the summer, now over six feet, and retained the gangly apperance of someone young, but the hardened look of an adult.

When he arrived at the Dursley's house after school, they had cowered away from him, leaving him to his devices as he pleased. Mr Dursley, Mrs. Dursley, and Dudley usually bothered him with their abuse, but he supposed the Dursleys had recieved something via owl post to leave him alone, and it was good that they had. Harry didn't think he could stand the Dursley's constant bickering.

At one minute before midnight, Harry double checked his room, making sure that he had nothing left behind he wanted. He made sure Hedwig, his snowy owl, was locked tightly in her cage and rested comfortably on top of his truck for easy access. Finding nothing he would need for his new life as an adult wizard, he reassumed his position on the bed and looked again at his watch.

It was midnight. Holding his breath, he lifted his wand and tried out his first bit of magic outside Hogwarts that was not illegal.

_"Wingardium Leviosa!"_ Harry whispered, as he pointed the wand at his trunk.

Slowly but surely, the trunk and owl both hovered in the air about two feet. Harry looked out the window cautiously, as though half-expecting the Ministry of Magic swooping in on their broomsticks, ready to expel him, but they weren't. Harry Potter was seventeen, an adult.

Letting the trunk and Hedwig down back onto the ground, Harry lay back on his bed and pointed the wand at the ceiling.

_"Lumos!" _A bright light filled the room.

_"Oh, bollocks," _Harry thought, and immediately extinguished the spell with an uttered _Nox._

He had better be careful, who knows who could have seen such a bright light? He looked at his watch once more. It was seven minutes after midnight. He wondered where his guards were? Surely they wouldn't be-

A loud crash reverberated below him. It sounded as though a beast ripped a wall off completely.

_Oh, bollocks, _he thought again._ This can't be good._

Wand at the ready, Harry silently opened the door to his room and out into the hallway. Strangely enough, the Dursleys were not already awake and at the ready. He wondered if McGonagall really was joking when she said she'd make sure the Dursleys were not going to be any trouble when he was leaving.

Before he could get to the staircase, someone was already there. A dark figure obsucured by shadow. Harry did not know whether it was friend or foe, but wasn't about to take any chances. Instead, he raised his wand arm to knock out the intruder, but was unable when the man spoke.

"Don't, Harry." was all he said. Not who he was, not anything, but the second Harry heard his voice, his wand fell at his side in shock.

"S-Sirius?" he whispered

So ends the first chapter! Please comment below, tell me what you like! I do quite enjoy comments/critisism, so go nuts! The more replies I get, the more I know that it is appreciated and wanted, therefore I continue! Thank you in advance for reading and replying.


	2. Evil Unmasked?

Chapter two: Evil Unmasked?

So, chapter one has come and gone, Harry's having him some fun, is it Siri, is it not? Are grey eyes out or are they hot? This and more will be divulged in this chapter...or not. ;)

"S-Sirius?" Harry whispered

Instead of disarming the man in front of him, he lit the room once more with his wand and illuminated the darkened hallway to see the man before him.

"You are not Sirius..." he said to the man. He did not know who it was that stood there, but whoever it was bore a striking resemblance to his godfather, yet not.

This man had to be no older than twenty two, Harry assumed, and he knew that Sirius was much older than that. His hair was black, but not matted, with more volume as it was when he was younger. His face showed no look of one who had endured thirteen years inside the dread wizard prison Azkaban, but of a man in his prime, with no thoughts of the dark future that may lie ahead of him. He looked like Sirius when he was fresh out of Hogwarts, not of the 'mass murderer' Sirius Black. Besides, Sirius was dead... he died two years ago. This man was not Sirius.

"I am, Harry. I would not lie to you." the man said to him, holding his own wand to the side and dropping it at his feet. "I mean you no harm, let me explain."

"LIAR!" Harry yelled, hoping upon hope that this was Sirius, but knowing it not to be so. He still held his wand up, not ready to stupefy him just yet. He had to be sure before he made any rash decisions...right?

He stayed silent, waiting for Harry to make his move.

"How do I know if you are lying to me or not? How do I know that you aren't some Death Eater trying to look good for Voldemort?"

"Would a Death Eater masquerade as a younger version of me if he didn't want to get killed in the process?"

He had a point there.

"Don't you have some form of proof? If you are who you say you are, you'd have something." Harry said, not liking this game of cat and mouse.

The man seemed finally to come to his own decision. Whether it was to offer the only piece of crucial evidence of his identity or to be sure Harry was indeed Harry, he finally said something he could use. "Harry, you know what McGonagall told you in her letter. You know how to find out if I am lying." he said, not taking his eyes off of Harry's.

"How did you...?" Harry said, and thought. Professor McGonagall had written him a letter two months previously about what to do if someone comes into the Dursley's home to take him away and he was not sure of his identity. She insisted it was a very simple spell that would not need to be practiced before it was used, so he would have no trouble preforming it at any moment. She asked him to memorise it immediately, and he had.

"Come now, boy. I have no wand. Go ahead!" he said to him.

Without thinking about it, without pausing to reconsider, without losing his nerve, Harry did so.

"Verita Mortis!" he cried

The not-quite-Sirius was lifted into the air by an unknown means, as though he was a marionette puppet and was pulled up by strings. He seemed unconscious. His hair was fallen loosely to his sides, his face still and unmoving. One grey eye was open, but not focused, the lid partially closed. He looked almost as though he were asleep.

He certainly looked like Sirius, Harry thought. He was wearing a black leather motorcycle jacket and black jeans, similar to something Harry had seen him wear in the pictures he had of his mum and dad, Lily and James Potter. He had seen Sirius in it in quite a few of the pictures he had, which could give reason that this man may not be Sirius. It was simple enough to find pictures of Harry's godfather, find someone willing to somehow impersonate him and wear his clothes of his youth. But why when he was so young? Certainly whoever was behind this knew that Sirius had died, and that he looked far different from the image he was presented with now. With all of the wanted signs throughout the muggle and wizarding community, one would be more precise with such areas of deception. Unless he was actually Sirius by some strange way?

No, stop thinking that. I'm only going to let myself down, he thought. His godfather was dead. Dumbledore was dead. He just had to accept the fact and move on.

Walking up slowly to the man, making sure not to lower his wand more than necessary, he did what McGonagall had said.

"Who are you?" he asked the man

Author Notes: The dread wizard prison Azkaban was of course stolen from the Princess Bride, where it was known as the Dread Pirate Roberts. Verita Mortis was half-stolen from Cassandra Claire's fic Draco Veritas and her two other fics, which I highly reccomend if you haven't read them already. Notedly, Cassandra Claire is also writing her own trilogy of books, the first to be published mid 2007 for more details, please visit her MSN group. :) Cassandra Claire can be found at Okay, okay, I'm totally advertising her here, but she's my favourite fanfic author, and without her lovely literary works, this would not be here. I got a lot of inspiration from that chick, whether she knows it or not.


	3. Silver Fog

Chapter three: Silver Fog

"Who are you?" he asked

His face moved a bit, twitched as though it were sleeping. And in a soft voice, as though he were talking in his sleep, he spoke.

"Sirius Black." he answered. Harry held his wand tighter.

There was no way to lie under the Verita spell, McGonagall had told him. It forced the person spelled to tell the truth and nothing else. She said it was an ancient spell, created by her ancestors during the Middle Ages and not many people knew of its existance. McGonagall said it was a great thing to use as protection, should anyone come to retrieve him from the Dursley's and Harry was unsure of his or her identity.

He wasn't sure, even now. He trusted Professor McGonagall always when it came to her spellwork, but how could have his godfather, Sirius Black, been risen from the dead?

He remembered how Albus Dumbledore, his headmaster until the end of last term, had told him nobody could be risen from the dead, that there was no spell, no potion, nothing to bring someone back from the icy grip of death's embrace. So how could his godfather be alive, after Harry himself had seen him fall into the veil at the Ministry of Magic and not return from it?

_There was no body,_ a small voice in the back of his head said; _Lupin and everyone else could be wrong_. _He may be alive._

As much as Harry wanted to dismiss those thoughts, that his godfather, the only person he could ever think of as a parental figure could be alive, he didn't want to hope on it. It would be almost as bad as if he had to watch him die again.

"I thought you died." he said to him.

"I did." came the monotone reply

"Then how are you here?" Harry inquired''

"Becau-" he began, but Harry was not listening. At least not to him.

There was a sound from downstairs. Not quite a sound, he shouldn't say that. It was as though the very air thickened, and from the window in the hall he watched as the lights outside by the street dimmed ever so slightly. If it was what he thought it was, it did not bode well.

He knew he was right the moment he saw the air thicken to the point that fog began to creep throughout the streets and onto the perfectly manicured lawns behind number four's. He could see through the window that it was getting thicker and thicker by the minute.

"Dementors" he whispered, the air excaping his lips in a deathly white frost.

"Then I suppose you'd better take this spell off of me before they get any closer." Sirius said, still in his monotone, sleepy boy voice.

Sirius was right. If those dementors got any closer, they may harm the Dursley's (which wouldn't be so bad after all) and leave them in a bad spot to do any worthwhile defending. He did not want to have his soul sucked out by these horrific creatures.

It was his decision. Either he let go of this possible inposter (but McGonagall said the spell always works) and possibly be killed while defending himself and Sirius from the dementors; or not let him go, knock him unconscious somehow and take him by broom or knight bus or something to the authorites, to McGonagall, to someone, and find out who he is, while possibly getting killed by the dementors since he'd be slowed down so much.

He didn't like either avenue, but he knew he'd have to make a decision now or never. He could already feel the dementors coming closer.

"You are not here to kill me, right?" Harry asked him. If McGonagall was right, he'd be forced to answer.

"Of course not, Harry. What would James and Lily say if I killed their only son?" he replied, with a bit of a sleepy grin.

Not pausing to think about it any longer, especially with the looming thought of soul-sucking dementors on their way, he ended the spell with an uttered Finite Incantatem and watched as his godfather landed gracefully on his feet like a dancer.

Sirius blinked a few times, and shook his head not unlike a dog would, seeming to clear his mind. He hopped up and down a bit, seemingly to get his circulation back to normal, adjusted his eyes to Harry and smiled.

"Now that I've had myself a nice nap, you finally decide I'm not going to kill you?" Sirius asked, the usual goofy grin back on his face.

"Yes, now let's hurry and get out of here. There are dementors on their way." Harry told him. At the mention ofthe creatures that feasted on every happy thought he had for thirteen years, his eyes grew large with worry.

"Dementors? Are you sure?" he asked. Harry pointed to the window that was now almost completely obscured by fog.

"Quite." he answered

Sirius stared outside for a moment or two before replying. "Wonderful. Voldemort must have sent them here to slow you down before he arrived." Sirius said to him "Let's go to your room quickly and get your things. I trust you took McGonagall's advice and packed early?"

Harry nodded led the way to the bedroom, being closer to the door.

Everything he owned worth taking with him was in the trunk. He couldn't believe he was finally leaving the Dursleys. He didnt' know where he was going to go after this, but it had to be better than here. He was nice enough to the Dursley's to make his bed and clean out his closet, taking all of his clothes but leaving the puce and canary yellow socks for them to remember him by. His trunk was enlarged inside to accomodate his broom, and Hedwig's cage inside quite nicely, while Hedwig was sent off to the Weasley's the day before as McGonagall had requested. The only things he had left out was his wand, one robe and his invisibility cloak, which was still stuffed in his pocket for easy access. He took it with him everywhere now.

He took out his wand now, to spell the trunk to float behind them as they left the house, but Sirius shook his head.

"We'll shrink it." he said to Harry

"Shrink it?" Harry asked

"Yes, James, Lupin and I did it all of the time to our trunks, it saved us the trouble of carrying them. It's rather difficult to do with things inside it, but I can manage."

Harry thought that was a good idea and left Sirius to it while he looked around once more to be sure he left nothing behind.

Sirius quickly shrunk the trunk and Harry tightened his robe around him while Sirius put the galleon-sized trunk in his jacket pocket and headed out the door, Harry close behind him. He was already starting to feel the swamping, drowning feelings the presence of a dementor brought and did not look forward to when he and his once-dead godfather walked out the door to face what was ahead.

Landing to the bottom steps of the Dursley residence, Harry and Sirius both had their wands out, ready to fight. The feeling that the dementors brought with them was less intense, as though it had moved further away. Harry was hoping that they could use that to their advantage and leave before there was great damage done to the muggles in the vicinity.

"What should we do, Sirius? Should we wait until they arrive or should we leave now? I'm sure they'll leave as soon as we do. They must be looking for me."

Sirius nodded "The last thing we need to do right now is to be slowed down by them. We need to get out of here and where we need to go as soon as possible."

"Where are we going that we need to be so quickly?"

"We are going to Hogwarts. I need you to help me find something"

"What is it?"

"My memory."

A gust of wind blew between Harry and Sirius as soon as they stepped outside number four. It slid through his hair and around his arms, chilling him though he wore his thickest robe.

He didn't know what Sirius meant by his memory, but he wasn't ready to ask him just yet. The dementors were sure to find him any moment, and they had to be moving.

"How are we going to Hogwarts, Sirius? Are we going to apparate?" Harry started shivering

"No, we are going to take my motorcycle to the Weasley's, then we are going to Hogwarts via floo."

"Your motorcycle?" Harry said "I thought Hagrid had that?"

"He did, but he has returned it to me. No time to talk, Harry. We must be swift about this." Sirius said, and without further ado, clutched his wand tightly and stalked into the night, Harry at his heels.


End file.
